


Hold On

by piratesPencil



Category: DreamWorks Dragons (Cartoon), How to Train Your Dragon (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Dragon's Edge (How to Train Your Dragon), F/F, Family, Past Relationship(s), Pining, Trauma, heather's childhood, heather's parents
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-06
Updated: 2020-07-06
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:13:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25110697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/piratesPencil/pseuds/piratesPencil
Summary: “He killed your parents, Heather. Your real parents, the ones who raised you. And everyone in your village! Have you actually forgiven him for that?”Heather's relationship with Dagur is complicated. Astrid just wants to help.
Relationships: Dagur the Deranged & Heather, Heather/Astrid Hofferson
Comments: 2
Kudos: 24





	Hold On

**Author's Note:**

> Set sometime between "Gold Rush" and "Searching for Oswald... and Chicken".

“So, how’s the search for Oswald going?” Astrid asked.

They were in the stables, unsaddling the dragons after a long morning flight. Heather was visiting from Berserker Island for a few days, and Astrid only felt a _little_ bit bad about how much she was monopolizing Heather’s time. She’d missed her.

“It’s… going,” Heather said, hanging Windshear’s saddle on a hook in her stall.

“Just going?” Astrid asked. “No leads yet?”

Heather groaned and leaned against Windshear’s side. Her dragon nuzzled her hair gently.

“Not really,” Heather said. “We have his old journal, but none of the clues mean anything to us… It seems like the guy just _vanished_ into thin air.”

She pressed her face against Windshear’s neck, muffling her next words.

“Sometimes I wonder if Dagur really did kill him, and he’s still just been playing us this whole time.”

Astrid’s eyes widened. She stepped over to Heather carefully, put a gentle hand on her shoulder.

“Do you really think so?” she asked, trying to sound calm while everything inside of her was screaming.

Astrid _wanted_ to trust Dagur. The others trusted him, especially Hiccup. And he really had proven himself to be an ally for the past few months. But Astrid still couldn’t bring herself to trust their long-time enemy so easily, and if Heather thought he might still be lying to them, Astrid was prepared to believe her whole-heartedly.

Heather shook her head, though, pulling away from Windshear slightly.

“No,” she said. “Maybe. I don’t know. He seems to really care about finding our dad, and to really regret his past. But…”

She turned to Astrid, and she looked so distraught that it almost broke Astrid’s heart.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Astrid said gently, pulling Heather into a hug. “Let’s go for a walk, okay? Just the two of us. And you can tell me all about it.”

Heather nodded slightly, her face buried against Astrid’s shoulder.

Astrid knew that Heather could take care of herself. She had never met a person more fiercely independent than Heather, and it was one of the things that she loved so much about her. But there was also something about Heather that made Astrid want to gather her up into her arms and never let her go, to protect her from the world that had already hurt her so much, no matter the cost.

She kissed the top of Heather’s head softly, then pulled away enough to grab Heather’s wrist and tug her gently towards the stable doors.

“Come on,” Astrid said, and the half-smile that Heather gave her melted her heart.

* * *

They hiked in peaceful silence, winding their way up one of the Edge’s many narrow cliffsides. They could have taken their dragons, but there was something that Astrid found meditative about walking under her own power, and she thought that Heather needed that right now.

By the time they reached the top of the cliff, they were both slightly out of breath, but in a satisfying way. Astrid sat down on the cliff’s edge, letting her legs dangle in the open air, and motioned for Heather to join her.

She watched as Heather untied a waterskin from her belt and took a long swig, a bead of sweat sliding down her temple. She sat down beside Astrid, cross-legged, and offered her the waterskin.

“Thanks,” Astrid said softly. She put the waterskin to her lips, and it felt as though a dozen Nadders were beating their wings inside her chest.

Astrid and Heather had kissed before, during that beautiful, brief time when Heather was living on the Edge. A part of Astrid’s heart had broken when Heather decided to leave the Edge to join Dagur on Berserker Island, and that part of her heart still ached.

She wanted, so badly, to lean forward and press her lips against Heather’s, to lose herself in the comfort of Heather’s arms. But she didn’t know how to go back to that ease she’d had with Heather before, didn’t know if she could bear to break her heart again.

So instead she drank deeply from the waterskin, looking out across the ocean below instead of at Heather.

“So,” Astrid said, when she finally handed back the waterskin. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Heather sighed and leaned back, uncrossing her legs so that they were dangling over the edge, too, as she lay back in the grass.

“We don’t have to talk,” Astrid said quickly. “We can just sit.”

“No,” Heather said. “It’s okay. I just… ugh.” She pounded a fist against the grass, and Astrid knew that feeling of pent-up frustration well.

Astrid lay back, too, and Heather turned her head slightly so that they were facing each other. Heather’s skin shone like white gold in the morning sunlight, and Astrid wanted to reach out and touch her so badly it ached.

“Dagur swears up and down that he’s never lied to me, not once,” Heather said, her eyebrows creased with a frown. “And I want to believe him, I really do. It’s just… I guess it’s just hard for me to believe that when all I did when we were with the hunters was lie to him.”

“Heather, don’t you dare feel guilty about that,” Astrid said.

She couldn’t help herself—she reached over and gently brushed a few stray hairs from Heather’s forehead, and the way that Heather leaned into her touch made her heart leap into her throat.

“You were doing what you had to do,” Astrid said softly, her hand gentle against Heather’s cheek. “To protect yourself, and us, and who knows how many dragons. Dagur might not have lied to you, but he was still bad news back then, and I’m _proud_ of you for how well you lied to him.”

Heather closed her eyes and sighed.

“I know,” she said. “I don’t feel guilty, not really. I don’t regret what I did. But… all that time that we were working for Viggo together, I assumed that Dagur was lying to me as much as I was lying to him. But I really don’t think he was, Astrid.”

She opened her eyes, and they were so green, so sad, so desperate.

“All that bonding we did was _real_ to him, and it wasn’t for me,” Heather said, almost a whisper. “And it just makes me wonder… which one of us is really the heartless one, you know?”

“You’re not heartless, Heather,” Astrid said. Her hand slid from Heather’s cheek and she gripped Heather’s shoulder, _hard_ , like she could drill the words into Heather’s body. “You’re not heartless for not bonding with a villain who was _using_ you, who killed your _parents_.”

“He’s not really a villain, though,” Heather said softly.

Astrid sat up abruptly, a rage she hadn’t expected coursing through her. “Dagur might be our ally now, but he was our _enemy_ , Heather. For _years_. Yours and ours. And he _deserved_ that. It wasn’t a misunderstanding. Dagur did _horrible_ things, and you don’t have to love him now just because he’s your brother and he said sorry a couple times.”

Heather’s eyes widened slightly, and then she looked away, still lying there in the grass. “I mean, there was kind of a misunderstanding,” she said. “He didn’t actually kill Oswald, so—”

“He killed your _parents_ , Heather. Your _real_ parents, the ones who _raised_ you. And everyone in your village! Have you actually forgiven him for that?”

Astrid didn’t expect Heather to bolt upright, didn’t expect the sudden fury that flashed through Heather’s eyes.

“No, Astrid, I _haven’t_ forgiven him for that,” she snapped, and Astrid actually shrank slightly under Heather’s furious gaze. “I haven’t forgotten for a _second_ what he did to my village and my parents.”

Heather slammed both of her fists against the grass again, but now the rage wasn’t pent up—it was _flowing._

“Do you know how many times I’ve snuck into his room in the middle of the night and come _this close_ to just ending him in his sleep?” Heather asked, her voice dangerously low. “And every time I stop myself, because after everyone I’ve lost, I can’t bear to be the one to kill the only family member I have left. And I don’t know what makes me more of a monster, Astrid. That I’ve tried to kill my own brother, or that I’m living under the same roof as my parents’ murderer and I haven’t killed him yet.”

And suddenly, Heather’s fury turned to sobs, messy tears streaking down her cheeks as her entire body seemed to crumple in on itself.

“You’re not a monster, Heather,” Astrid said softly.

She held out her arms, and Heather fell into them, boneless.

“There’s no right answer to any of this,” Astrid said, her lips pressed against Heather’s hair. “You’re doing the best you can. I know you are.”

Heather hiccupped and held Astrid tighter, and Astrid wished that she could gather up all of Heather’s pain and hold it inside her own heart for her.

“What am I going to do if we do find Oswald?” Heather asked. “What do I tell him about who his son is?”

“You don’t have to tell him anything about his son,” Astrid said. “That’s Dagur’s job, not yours. You only need to tell him about his daughter. His strong, incredible daughter.”

Heather laughed slightly, still crying against Astrid’s shoulder.

“I don’t know what I’m doing, Astrid,” she said, her voice small.

“I know,” Astrid said. “But I’m here. No matter what you decide to do. I’m here.”

“Thank you,” Heather whispered, holding Astrid tight.

And Astrid held her—until her sobs turned to soft sniffles, until her tears dried on her cheeks, until the sun rose noon hot in the sky.

Astrid knew that this wasn’t something she could protect Heather from, knew that Heather’s choices surrounding Dagur weren’t choices that Astrid could make for her. But she could hold her when she needed to be held, and maybe that was enough.


End file.
